Maybe
by Sherlia
Summary: Long after Luke's death, Thalia thinks of him.


_**Sorry, guys—had writer's block for a while. I started one on Zoë, but I wasn't satisfied with how that one turned out. I'm thinking of restarting that one. Anyway, this one's about Thalia and Luke, hope you guys like it and review!**_

Today is different.

That is the first thing Thalia thinks when she wakes up.

Yes. Today is different.

She rubs her eyes, still groggy, and is surprised to feel something warm and wet against her hand. She is crying. Why?

And suddenly she remembers, and grief hits her like a twenty pound sledgehammer. Today was the day…Luke had died.

Then she is crying, her shoulders heaving as she tries to mute her uncontrollable sobs. Luke…oh gods, Luke. She had loved him. For so long as she was the pine tree standing guard, believing she was doomed to die as a tree. It was thoughts of Luke that had kept her going. And then she wakes up and Annabeth tells her Luke is a traitor and all she can think is "No, Annabeth must be lying, he wouldn't."

Oh, but he would.

She was naïve then. Trusting and innocent. She loved him, still do, but it doesn't matter. Dear, dear Luke is a traitor. Her bonds with him were supposed to be cut.

But they weren't. And she chokes back another sob as more memories rise to the surface. Fighting Luke, winning, cornering him against the edge of a cliff. And she remembers him goading her. "Is that what you want? To go back to your dad in triumph?" And then she is crying and sobbing and clutching the edge of the bed, for he knows that isn't true, and she sees the pain in his eyes, hidden behind a mask. She knows it hurts him to say that, but he still does. She wants to beg and cry and throw her against him, if only he would just come back.

But he doesn't. And she remembers Annabeth begging for her to spare him. And she wants to, gods, she does. But she hardens her heart and argues back, for Luke is a 'traitor', and a 'menace', so they should 'just kill him while they have the chance'. As they argue over his fate, Luke attempts to use the opportunity to try and disarm Thalia, but she instinctively kicks him off the cliff. And then she breaks down, for she can't take it anymore.

It isn't fair. Why were the fates so cruel?

It hurts. Gods, it does, every second. She locks it away, hides her true self, that broken mess behind the door, and she sweeps everything away and puts on a front. And it hurts to pretend, to put on every fake smile and pretend it was true. It hurts so goddamned much, and for the umpteenth time, she wishes she could die.

Dying would be a wonderful solution to this pain. To no longer know the future she could have had with Luke, the love they could have shared. He loved her, too.

She heard the way his voice almost cracked as he tried to convince her to join Kronos's side, the way his eyes filled with love, so deep and profound and oh, so familiar. And then she wishes she could reverse time, could have prevented such a horrible ending to their love. So sweet, so short. Aphrodite must have loved it.

And then she shakes, silent tears rolling down her face. Holy mother of Zeus, it wasn't enough. She didn't have enough strength to piece herself back together again and again, to gather the pain up and hide it, every single day. It wasn't enough.

But then she thinks of sarcastic Percy, of clever Annabeth, of that scared seven year old in the alley. She thinks of gloomy Nico and brave Zoë, how much she had sacrificed. She thinks of the mischievous Stolls, of Katie, of Grover, that nature-loving satyr, of Clarisse, the hot-headed daughter of Ares, and Chris. She thinks of Jason, how she could not abandon him. She thinks of Piper, who had more strength then she knew. She thinks of Hazel and Frank, of goofy Leo and independent Reyna, who pulled herself up again and again, no matter how far she fell. And finally she thinks of Luke, bracing herself for that brutal pain, but it never comes. Instead, she is thinking of his blond locks, those bright, sharp eyes, the lopsided smile that always made you clutch your valuables and check if anything were missing. She imagines his quirks and strengths, his weaknesses, things that made him who he was.

And then she stands. Maybe she has enough strength for one more day. Maybe.

 _ **I wanted to write more, but got kinda stuck. Anyway, I decided this was fine—REVIEW, GUYS!**_


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